Read Online The Rousing: A Celtic in the Blood Novella by Jess Raven, Paula Black - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jess Raven, Paula Black
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what to do … then it struck me: the legend of the cairn, and the ancient Celtic tradition of piling stones upon a grave to prevent its occupant rising after death. The cairn on the hill had been disturbed.
It was a long shot, but it was all I had and I was willing to believe in anything to get that thing away from Jack.
Quietly as I could, desperate not to draw the Dearg-Due’s attention, I left Liam and scurried up the last of the steps to the grassy headland. As I made my stealthy run for the cairn, I saw her wrench Jack’s neck to one side, exposing his jugular, just as she had with Liam. She was going in for the kill, and my time was running out. Dropping to my hands and knees, I frantically gathered up the scattered stones from the grass, piling them back onto the cairn where they belonged. I didn’t care that they were tainted by John-Joe’s blood, or that they stained my hands a rusty brown.
Jack cried out and my whole body jolted with adrenaline and rushing terror. I stole a glance, but instantly regretted it. The Dearg-Due was at his throat like a rabid animal.
Despair crashed over me in a wave. Surely this was pointless, piling stones on her grave when she was already risen from it? But what else could I do? I searched the ground for the few remaining stones and tossed them on the cairn until there were no more to find.
Nothing happened.
Crap. Maybe the kids who’d pulled the cairn apart had tossed some stones in the sea? Maybe I was an unmitigated fool for ever thinking this could work.
I could hear the horrible sucking noises as she fed from his neck, and they turned my stomach over in a churn to rival the tempestuous waters below.
I sat back on my heels, dropped my head in my hands and let out a low whine. That’s when I saw it. A single stray stone lying in the grass between my legs. What the hell, I thought. Here goes nothing. I snatched it up and threw it on the pile.
An ear-splitting screech rent the air, and a sudden wind whipped up around me, a hair tangling rush that knocked me flat on my back. The air above the cairn swirled into a mini tornado of crackling electricity, lit up like a plasma globe. I could feel the intense draw of the vacuum within, had to grip onto the grass to hold myself back. I watched in disbelief as a dark grey shadow dissolved into smoke and was sucked into the eye of the supernatural storm.
It stopped as suddenly as it had started, with a pop like a break in the sound barrier, then nothing. Stillness. No wind. No rain. Gradually the world came back into focus: the sound of breakers striking the rocks below, gulls crying out in the bay, the first hint of dawn breaking on the horizon.
Stunned, I clambered to my feet and looked around.
Jack was lying in the grass, motionless. The world tipped on its axis.
I staggered over to where he lay and dropped to my knees. So much blood. So pale, even as I watched, his lips took on a bluish tinge. So still.
“No. Please. No.”
I pressed my fingers beneath his jaw and waited for the thud of life.
It didn’t come. I dropped my ear to his mouth, listening and feeling for the merest whiffle of a breath.
None came.
“You don’t die on me, you son of a bitch”, I cried. “Not now, not like this.”
Desperate, I locked my hands and pressed them to his sternum, pumping, hard and fast, as I’d been taught. It was the longest, most desperate count to thirty of my entire life.
My vision swam with tears that fell on his cheeks as I pinched his nose and sealed my mouth on his, pushing my breath into his lungs. Once. Twice.
God, could this really all be happening? Just hours ago I’d kissed this mouth with the kind of passion I’d thought would burn me alive. Now, those lips were cold as ice.
I squeezed my lids and the tears came freely, jagged sobs wracking my chest.
Then a cough. Not mine, his. A rattling wheeze, a sharp intake of breath.
“You’re alive!” I cried. “You’re fucking alive.”
His lids cracked
It was a long shot, but it was all I had and I was willing to believe in anything to get that thing away from Jack.
Quietly as I could, desperate not to draw the Dearg-Due’s attention, I left Liam and scurried up the last of the steps to the grassy headland. As I made my stealthy run for the cairn, I saw her wrench Jack’s neck to one side, exposing his jugular, just as she had with Liam. She was going in for the kill, and my time was running out. Dropping to my hands and knees, I frantically gathered up the scattered stones from the grass, piling them back onto the cairn where they belonged. I didn’t care that they were tainted by John-Joe’s blood, or that they stained my hands a rusty brown.
Jack cried out and my whole body jolted with adrenaline and rushing terror. I stole a glance, but instantly regretted it. The Dearg-Due was at his throat like a rabid animal.
Despair crashed over me in a wave. Surely this was pointless, piling stones on her grave when she was already risen from it? But what else could I do? I searched the ground for the few remaining stones and tossed them on the cairn until there were no more to find.
Nothing happened.
Crap. Maybe the kids who’d pulled the cairn apart had tossed some stones in the sea? Maybe I was an unmitigated fool for ever thinking this could work.
I could hear the horrible sucking noises as she fed from his neck, and they turned my stomach over in a churn to rival the tempestuous waters below.
I sat back on my heels, dropped my head in my hands and let out a low whine. That’s when I saw it. A single stray stone lying in the grass between my legs. What the hell, I thought. Here goes nothing. I snatched it up and threw it on the pile.
An ear-splitting screech rent the air, and a sudden wind whipped up around me, a hair tangling rush that knocked me flat on my back. The air above the cairn swirled into a mini tornado of crackling electricity, lit up like a plasma globe. I could feel the intense draw of the vacuum within, had to grip onto the grass to hold myself back. I watched in disbelief as a dark grey shadow dissolved into smoke and was sucked into the eye of the supernatural storm.
It stopped as suddenly as it had started, with a pop like a break in the sound barrier, then nothing. Stillness. No wind. No rain. Gradually the world came back into focus: the sound of breakers striking the rocks below, gulls crying out in the bay, the first hint of dawn breaking on the horizon.
Stunned, I clambered to my feet and looked around.
Jack was lying in the grass, motionless. The world tipped on its axis.
I staggered over to where he lay and dropped to my knees. So much blood. So pale, even as I watched, his lips took on a bluish tinge. So still.
“No. Please. No.”
I pressed my fingers beneath his jaw and waited for the thud of life.
It didn’t come. I dropped my ear to his mouth, listening and feeling for the merest whiffle of a breath.
None came.
“You don’t die on me, you son of a bitch”, I cried. “Not now, not like this.”
Desperate, I locked my hands and pressed them to his sternum, pumping, hard and fast, as I’d been taught. It was the longest, most desperate count to thirty of my entire life.
My vision swam with tears that fell on his cheeks as I pinched his nose and sealed my mouth on his, pushing my breath into his lungs. Once. Twice.
God, could this really all be happening? Just hours ago I’d kissed this mouth with the kind of passion I’d thought would burn me alive. Now, those lips were cold as ice.
I squeezed my lids and the tears came freely, jagged sobs wracking my chest.
Then a cough. Not mine, his. A rattling wheeze, a sharp intake of breath.
“You’re alive!” I cried. “You’re fucking alive.”
His lids cracked
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